


I began to understand...

by the_authors_exploits



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Order 66, because honestly I could write a thousand stories about order 66
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 23:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13018599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: They were young and in love, two sides to the same coin, balance incarnate...if only time had been kinder





	I began to understand...

**Author's Note:**

> There are thousands of variations I have for Order 66, from my incredibly complicated Kaiyo OC (seriously I have like 3 stories for her) to these two darling baby OCs THAT I LITERALLY JUST CREATED THEY ARE PRECIOUS AND I LOVE THEM, to actual younglings, those who fought and those who hid........SO MUCH ANGST~~!

Her ears ring; there are screams of people she can’t help, but there are also the tears of those she can. So she takes a breath, grips tight to Iyonnisi’s hand before letting go, and leaps from their hiding place; the air is heavy with smoke, and a young human child stumbles over rubble.

Iyonnisi hisses, trying to draw Ceqmo back, but the Mirilian is determined and she hustles through the fog to grasp the child close.

“You’re alright now, young one.” Ceqmo guides them through the hallway, Iyonnisi at her back. “This way; we have to be very quiet.”

Ceqmo delicately hops over a still Rodian and Iyonnisi lifts the child over.

“We have to hide,” Iyonnisi hisses; her lekkus twitch and tremble, little communications Ceqmo doesn’t understand beyond fear. “We have to find Master Inunt.”

Master Inunt is dead, but Ceqmo won’t bare that truth to her partner; it’s terrible enough to carry the memory alone. Her master falling in battle, so unprepared for the attack but so ready to defend the younglings. Instead, she gives a smile to the child. “What’s your name, little one?”

The boy scrubs at his eyes; they overflow with tears, and he hiccups. “Kadin.”

“I am Ceqmo, and this is Iyonnisi; we’re going to take care of you.” She straightens and shares a glance with Iyonnisi; they are a formidable pair, always have been a balance of each other. Where Iyonnisi is reckless abandon, Ceqmo is gentle calm.

All her bravado has escaped her, it would seem, and Iyonnisi looks to Ceqmo to offer security; if they can get to a balcony, or outer wall, they may stand a chance of escape. Ceqmo leads the way, with Iyonnisi close behind and Kadin gripping tightly to her hand.

Every now and then, a cry echoes across the temple; another painful passing of a youngling, a Jedi, a Padawan… An innocent; the trio freezes at the occurrence, awaiting their own demise to follow, and when it doesn’t they quietly continue on their way. They skirt around fires, and hop over broken pillars; at one point, they duck into a side room to avoid troopers. The synchronous footsteps come from in front of them, but cross away to the distance.

Iyonnisi peers out from their hiding spot; she nods at Ceqmo’s questioning glance. All clear, so they move to leave. Ceqmo ushers Kadin out in front of her, Iyonnisi leading the way; just as she goes to step out, a quiet sob catches her attention. Turning from the exit, she searches the darkened room; there are upturned tables and tomes thrown about, drapes smoldering and bodies bleeding.

Some are still alive, clearly; but Ceqmo knew that when they came in. Moans of agony, raspy breaths; she’d pressed Kadin to her side, a hand over his exposed ear, to hide him from the horrors. They weren’t some she could help, so she had focused on hiding and then escaping.

But that sob… That sob was not an injured sob; it was a fearful child’s, and the shushing that followed was just as scared. Ceqmo steps carefully inside.

“Hello?” She glances about, and Iyonnisi calls for her to hurry up. “We’re padawans; we might know a way to safety. Please come out?”

There’s a pause, the clatter of rubble as a youngling steps out of the dark; she’s a young Rodian, wide eyes that every Rodian has but look so innocent on the girl’s face.

“Hello,” Ceqmo speaks; she bends a knee and holds out her hand. “I’m Ceqmo; Kadin is the youngling there, and Iyonnisi is my Padawan sister.”

Iyonnisi hisses out, “we have to move!”

The youngling steps forward, and then another appears; and another; and another… Until twelve stand before Ceqmo. Thirteen, including Kadin; thirteen younglings that they can save.

“Come,” Ceqmo speaks hurriedly. “Come, all of you; we’re getting out of here. All of us.”

“Ceqmo, we can’t…” But Iyonnisi has never been able to sway Ceqmo when she’s determined.

Twelve kids clinging to her, Ceqmo is determination incarnate; her eyes are the raging fire of loyalty, and Iyonnisi rolls her eyes but grabs a few kids’ hands.

“Fine, but we need to move.”

They traverse the ruins of the once gorgeous temple, finding their way to an outer wall.

Iyonnisi presses a hand to the wall. “This is it; what now, Ceqmo?”

Dark green eyes look to the left, the right. “There should be a balcony to the right; that way.” She glances down to Kadin, who has stopped crying by now. He blinks wide eyes and pushes a child out of the way to hold her hand.

Iyonnisi leads the way; single file, they move slowly with the children pressed between Iyonnisi and Ceqom. Sure enough, after more destruction, a strip of light is seen through a collapsed archway; through the brick and mortar is freedom, the possibility of safety.

Ceqom and Iyonnisi get to work clearing a way for the younglings to squeeze through; delicately, so as to not disrupt the whole structure, they work tediously. Pausing every now and then, they listen for steps; for signs of their murderers.

They find a safe place to dig through near the top, on a little ledge that will hold their weight; as they clear a path, their comms chime quietly. A signal, weak, coming from another comm nearby connected to a still living person.

Ceqom presses a button to search through the links; it’s, thankfully, someone she knows well. A friend, another Padawan by the name of Perax. Ceqmo hails him, hears the chirp on the other side, on the balcony. Perax answers hurriedly, in a hushed tone.

“Ceqom! Where are you? Long distance communication is down, there are dead bodies everywhere, the clones… They…They…”

“I know,” Ceqom hisses; Iyonnisi continues to dig, and a youngling helps shift the rubble. Yet another one starts directing the others up to the platform. “Are you on the balcony?”

“Yes, I am!”

“Please tell me your speeder is there.”

“Yeah, I was going to…to joyride…”

Always a reliable rebel, Perax is; Ceqom sends a prayer through the Force. “We have younglings; thirteen. Iyonnis and I are here too.”

“That’s you digging? Awesome, I’ll get the speeder ready for the kids; I can take five at a time.”

They breach; it’s not wide enough for the teenagers, but just enough for the children. Iyonnis and Ceqom can worry about themselves later.

“Ok, Jhenna, you first; come on, sweetie.”

Iyonnis gives her a hand up, passes her to Ceqom, who coaxes her through the opening.

“There you go, love, I know it’s scary but Perax is waiting for you.” She keeps a hand on the girl until she can’t anymore, continuing a quiet murmur of reassurances. “Don’t be scared of him; he looks so incredibly scary, all those Zabraki horns and markings, but he’s a giant teddy bear. He’ll give you a hug and a kiss and maybe even a sweet if he has any.”

Jhenna is out of reach, out of sight, and everyone waits with bated breath for Perax’s confirmation; time goes by. Surely only seconds, but something feeling longer; until, finally, there’s the sound of scraping, a startled yelp, and then Perax’s voice comes through the comm.

“Send the next one!”

They do; and the next; and the next… Perax can only take five, but the balcony will be better than in here; whether they make it farther or not, at least they’ll die in the open air.

“Paloli, you next; come on, kiddo, let’s go.” Ceqmo pats his cheek, brushing away the tear tracks in the dirt on his face.

There are footsteps; even, measured, steady… Many; Ceqmo looks over her shoulder. Troopers, and Master Anakin amidst them, in clearly no hurry to dispatch them; his hood pulled high, his eyes dark and frozen. His saber drenched in blood of the innocent; it will be red eventually, a new Illum crystal, but more importantly a sign of true guilt.

Iyonnisi draws her saber in an instant, leaps away from the group, down into the fray; she tears through the troopers in her way, eyes bent on her target. On Master Anakin. Ceqmo cries out, a warning, a call for her to return; Master Anakin has mercilessly killed hundreds of younglings. Master Anakin beheaded Inunt; they are no match.

But perhaps, Ceqmo wonders as she shoves another youngling through the gap to safety, perhaps Iyonnisi knows this; perhaps, that is her plan. Not to defeat, but distract; enough for a few more to get away.

Some distraction; with the barest flick of his hand, Master Anakin silences Iyonnisi’s battle cry. Her saber dies, and she is throw against a broken wall; a horrid snap follows, and she crumples down to the ground—limp limbs and a vacant gaze, head lolling, as blood smears the smooth brick behind her. Some dribbles from her lips, the memory of sweet fruit from Ryloth pressed against Ceqmo’s own lips.

They were both reckless, in their own ways, and Ceqmo wouldn’t change anything; she closes her eyes to stay calm, still directing the younglings through to the other side, to where Perax awaits. He can help them now; she, and Iyonnisi, have done all they could.

Here, their story ends; with a boiling rage of the Dark Side rolling through her veins, the rage of grief and helplessness, Ceqmo opens her eyes. She will not go quiet, however, and like Iyonnisi knows how important one last second can be for these younglings; she scrabbles for Kadin, pushes him through the gap.

Leaping from the platform, she lights her saber and calls to Iyonnisi’s; duel wielding, she arches into the fire.

She falls as quickly as her Padawan sister; Master Anakin seizes her throat and deflects her sabers easily. His stare is deadened and cold beneath his hood, but Ceqmo does not waver; she claws at his arm, reaches to mark his face, kicks her feet to find purchase. There is none.

But that’s ok; she’s distracted him. Her job is done; her part in this life is over.

“You knew failure was the only way.” Master Anakin draws her closer; she has ceased kicking as black descends upon her mind, her vision. “Yet you still tried.”

 _“Yet I succeeded,”_ she thinks as Perax, unknowing to her fate, calls that Kadin has passed the gap and is safe. There are still younglings she won’t know the fate of, those she couldn’t see through to safety, but hopefully they can make it.

Her last thought is of Iyonnisi in the jungles of Felucia, smiling at the colors, basking in the humidity; joy, beauty, peace…

Master Anakin snaps her neck, leaving her in a heap on the ground.


End file.
